Shadow-Child
by Unicadia
Summary: AU where Celebrimbor gets bat wings. T for violence, kissing, and sleeping drugs. COMPLETE!
1. The Bleeding Maiden

"Thuringwethil."

I crouched in the dark, gazing up at my master, Sauron. The faint light seeping in through a crevice in the great fortress of Angband flickered in his gold eyes and glinted off his long, silver hair, which contrasted with the black tunic he always wore.

"I have a task for you."

I shifted from my giant bat-hame into my other accustomed form, as one of the Children Ilúvatar, with thick black hair and the pale skin of a corpse. I slid across the cold floor to my master. "Yes, my lord? What message shall I carry?"

He did not look at me, but turned his gaze aside to the crevice where the light pooled in. His eyes narrowed. "Not a message." Now he turned back to me, and I cowered at the black look on his face. "Our lord wearies of the offspring of his enemy – Fëanor. Fly south and discover what you can."

I hissed. I did not like flying so far from Angband. Elves roamed the lands to the south, and I hated them. _(For their beauty, for their love of light, though their blood was sweet.)_

His hands twitched, and I cowered again. "This is a matter of importance. They are fell, dangerous."

I snarled. "I desire their blood." The blood of the elves was sweeter than that of men's. It had been a long time since I had tasted it.

He let out a shrill, hollow laugh. "Our lord yet has plans for them. They are cursed and I think he sees the demise of the Noldor in their capable hands. Leave them. Just see what it is they do and plan."

I growled and tossed my black hair. If I was to be made to fly so far south, I felt I should have some sort of recompense. "Not even one? There are seven of them – surely our lord can spare one."

Sauron was already walking away. "Do as you're told, Thuringwethil."

I sent a hissed curse after him as he disappeared into the shadows. I knew there were twins. Perhaps our lord would not miss one of them.

Once night fell, I slipped out of Angband by a small, secret way close to the ground and changed into my giant bat-hame once again. I skimmed through the air, away from the smoldering peaks of the Thangorodrim, heading for the hills of Dorthonion. I reached them as the sun rose, and I remained close to their shadow, away from the burning light. I flew like this for several days, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. I did not sleep much. The hills soon climbed into mountains, and I saw the peak of Himring in the misty distance. I streaked across the plains toward it, flying into a burrow when day broke. I remained there until night. Then I spread my wings again into the cool air. As I went, I espied afar off two riders, so I checked and swerved higher into the air.

I heard a cry far below me, a faint twanging like something rapidly fanning the air, and then a sudden jolt, as something sharp lodged itself in my side. I shrieked in surprise. The first sensations of pain throbbed through my body, and I felt faint. My wings gave out and I plummeted to the earth. I managed to break my fall with a few meager flaps before I hit the ground. I heard the sound of hooves and voices approaching. With my last shred of consciousness, I shifted to my other form, knowing the riders would kill me instantly as a vampire. I lay there, bleeding into the grass, my gasping breaths racking through my body as two horses stopped before me. I heard the riders speaking, two male voices, as though from far away:

"A maiden? Where did that thing go?"

"That is your arrow, Curufin. You shot her. Maedhros will be pleased when he hears you shot one of his people." Sarcasm weighed heavy in the second voice.

But the first sounded far from mocking. "I thought it was a bird of some kind. Where did she come from?"

"Your arrow must have missed the bird and found this one. Her appearance is strange."

"She looks like she could be one our own people. Her skin is as pale as Aredhel's."

"Aredhel's was not so ghastly. There is something fell about her."

"Still, she is a beauty. And I never saw any maiden along the marches."

"Nevertheless, she bleeds."

I felt strong, gentle hands lifting me up into the saddle, then the body of one of the riders, warm and strangely comforting as he sat behind me, one arm holding me upright. I lost consciousness as we galloped over the plains of Himlad, the night wind whispering above us.

* * *

When I awoke, light flooded my eyes, and I groaned, turning my face away from it into something downy and suffocating. Blinking, I opened my eyes, finding I lay on a soft bed, and my wound wrapped in clean linen. Turning, I saw a male elf sitting in chair by the bed, reading a book. I started, thinking to escape, but a sharp pain in my side restrained me. The elf looked up as I settled back into the blankets, and he smiled. My stomach turned over at his smile; it seemed to me to fill the whole room, and the darkness of my mind lessened somewhat. I shivered, unused to the feeling. I looked away and fidgeted with the edge of the coverlet. The light filling the room made my head hurt.

"Hello, maiden." The elf stood and strode up to me. I cowered under the coverlet. _(I was not afraid of him – afraid only of his light.)_ He laughed, his voice painfully soft. "Do not fear. You are safe. I am Prince Curufin, Lord of Himlad, though you rest now in my brother's fortress of Himring. Who might you be?"

 _Not Thuringwethil._ I did not speak, only gazed back into his wide, deep gray eyes which held a strange, beautiful light. _(I, who did not love the light, found them irresistible for some reason. I silently cursed them.)_

 _(Much like my lord desired and hated the light.)_

"Where do you hail from?"

Again, I did not speak.

"Are you from the East?"

I shook my head, though regretted it immediately afterwards.

He said nothing for a long moment. We stared at each other until I could not bear the light in his eyes and looked away. He moved out of the corner of my sight, and I glanced at him. He smiled as if he had come to a decision. "I will give you a name. Reingwen, for you are a wandering maiden."

 _Wandering maiden._ I never wandered before. I opened my mouth. _"Reingwen."_ The word felt strange on my tongue. Strange, and beautiful, and I hated and loved it. _Reingwen._ Sauron would hate it. I found myself smiling.

"You like it?" He looked extremely pleased with himself.

I hesitated, then nodded, cursing myself afterwards. I almost lost myself. _(Did I like it?)_

I sat up, causing the pain to streak up my side again, and I fell back on the pillow with a cry. He reached out to me, catching my arm and laying a hand on my head. I recoiled at his touch. His fingers left strange, tingling spots on my skin, and I felt faint, both from the pain and from his touch. I did not understand.

"Care, Reingwen. You are not yet well."

I looked up into his eyes, and found in them peace and comfort that I had never known. It burned inside me, and I could not comprehend it. I hated it, yet desired it. My hand somehow slipped into his, and I clutched it as if that alone kept me from the darkness I felt with sudden clarity.

 _(I never noticed how oppressive it felt before.)_

* * *

 **Hello all!**

 **First of all, I have not forgotten my other stories - I just got this *really* weird idea and I had to run with it! (When the muses call, you do not ignore them!)**

 **I'm a little nervous about this story as it is *so* far out there. Please let me know what you think!**

 **And thank you Silmarilz1701 for beta-ing and elenrith for making it better!**

 **Much love,**

 **Unicadia**


	2. Fell Light

_At least I found the sons of Fëanor,_ I told myself as I remained confined to the bed for the next couple of days, too weak to do much.

Prince Curufin's eldest brother and the lord of Himring, Prince Maedhros, came to see me sometimes. I remembered him from his time as my lord's thrall in Angband. I could not forget his curling mane of red hair, nor his impressive height. I noted his solitary hand. He concealed his right arm in the folds of his long sleeve and cloak. He never stayed long, a troubled look on his face, and I wondered if his spirit recognized me as one of the fell creatures of his tormentor.

Once, when they must have thought I slept, I heard Prince Curufin speaking with his brother.

"Is she not one of your people?"

"I have never seen her before." Prince Maedhros sounded weary.

"She is not of mine, either. Perhaps Maglor's . . ."

"I do not think she is even Noldorin."

"Telerin, perhaps? But she is far too noble." Prince Curufin sounded admiring.

A pause, then, "I feel . . . a shadow about her."

"I do not. You are aching from your memories, brother."

Maedhros sighed, and they spoke no more.

Another of Prince Curufin's older brothers, Prince Celegorm, came to see me once. He brought his wolf hound, Huan, with him. When they entered the room, Huan bristled and growled low in his throat. Prince Celegorm frowned at the hound. " _Sídh,_ Huan," he said. My heart quickened as I locked eyes with the hound, and my fingers dug into the coverlet. He knew what I was. But for his master, I knew he would rip me apart. Weakened though I was, I considered speeding out the window of the chamber. Prince Curufin must have noticed my discomfort, for he said, "Brother, your dog is making our guest nervous. Take him away." He laughed, but his voice carried an edge. Prince Celegorm gave me one long, suspicious look (his bond with his hound must have been strong indeed), but he said nothing and left.

Still tense and unnerved, I moved toward the side of the bed, wincing as I did. I could not remain limp and defenseless; I needed to do something. Prince Curufin leaned over and maneuvered me back under the blankets with a gentle, but firm hand. I shivered beneath it.

"You need more time to recover, lady. A little while yet. Where is it you wish to go?"

I did not meet his eyes. I could kill him, if I wanted to. If I gathered the remnants of my strength, I could channel them into one lethal stroke from the iron claws on the ends of my wings once I shifted. I could rip open his chest, drink his sweet blood, and then be on my way back to Angband, ready with a report for Sauron: _They are hateful creatures, that is all._ I knew I couldn't make the long journey northward with my wound, though. And for some reason, I could not long entertain the thought of killing Prince Curufin. He showed me kindness . . . gentleness . . . concepts foreign to me. And his beauty overwhelmed me. I tried imagining leaping onto him, scratching out his dark, deep eyes _(bearers of that unholy light)_ , sinking my claws into his soft, lily-white skin . . . That was when the idea came to me, a strange idea. Sauron would be pleased, if it worked. In return, he might let me kill one of the Fëanorians and drink their blood. If I could perhaps use my female charms on Prince Curufinwë, I could more easily enter into the counsels of him and his brothers.

I heard his voice again. "It does not matter. You must remain here until you are well. And perhaps . . ." He stopped, and I looked back up at him. He smiled. "Well, we shall see."

I gave him an indulgent grin. I did not kill him.

* * *

My days were filled with the strange light of the elves and the strangest among them was Prince Curufin, son of Fëanor. He ruled the land of Himlad with Prince Celegorm, who soon returned to their domain, but Prince Curufin stayed with me. When I grew well enough to move, he took me to Himlad. Prince Curufin shone with delight at everything he showed me, but Prince Celegorm watched me from under his dark lashes with a troubled air. Huan growled whenever he saw me, but he did not approach me. I avoided him when I could.

I did not speak much, but let Prince Curufin show me around his castle on the sunlit fields of Himlad, and tell me of his people, for though I appeared elvish, he realized I understood nothing of what that meant. I asked many questions, half out of my plan to make him fall for me, half out of curiosity, making sure to catch his eyes and smile often. He told me his name in his language from long ago, in the fair land he had been born in, Valinor.

 _(I had heard Sauron mention that place once or twice. I had always imagined it to be a terrible place, but I did not know what that looked like.)_

"Curufinwë," I said, trying the word out. I liked it better than 'Curufin,' which felt too short.

He laughed. Never had I heard such laughter before. Sauron's was shrill and shattering. Curufinwë's could be soft or loud, but always fell on my ears like gentle rain. I did not know if I liked it.

"What is my name in your language?" I asked him.

He thought a moment. "Ránwen."

"Ránwen." I turned my face up to the prince, grinning wildly. "Call me that. Call me Ránwen."

His smile widened. "Ránwen."

I asked him about Prince Celegorm's name, and his other brothers' names, tasting each one on my tongue. He laughed, but he did not know how my heart. _(And perhaps I did not know it very well, either.)_

When I wasn't flirting with the prince, I would often stand by the many windows in the castle and gaze out upon the vast, light-flooded plains of Himlad, afraid of it, and yet in awe. The light no longer burned my eyes, but I did not like it, did not trust it. Prince Curufinwë would join me and tell me what we would see if we went riding out there. The many-woven winds, the birds nesting in the long grasses, the serenading insects, the fallow deer, the wild horses which did not fear the two brothers but would walk up to them and let them stroke their velvet necks and cast silver ropes about them . . . And then Curufinwë brought his arm around my waist, tight and possessive, and I stiffened beneath his touch. His other hand found mine and he turned me toward him. Though this was what I had been hoping for, my heart pounded, and my skin felt hot. But I did not pull away when he drew me close to him, and he kissed me on the lips.

And Eru help me _(for I did not know if it stemmed from my plan or from some dark, secret place in my heart; and if the latter was the case, then Sauron would flay me)_ ,but I kissed him back.

And oh, how sweet it was.

 _(What had I gotten myself into?)_

* * *

 **Thanks to elenrith for giving me tips for the story!**

 **Much love,**

 **Unicadia**


	3. Fallen Star

"So, do you think you can assail the great lord of the north?" I asked Prince Curufinwë one day as we took on a walk in the gardens. I chose my words carefully, unwilling to call my lord 'Morgoth' as the elves did, but fearful of using any other more specific name for him. 'Great lord of the north' still felt a little too close to home, but the prince's eyes were full of me and think it clouded his judgment.

"There is nothing else we can do," he said. "We swore to recover the Silmarils, the jewels of our father, and so we must do all we can to get them back, or the Everlasting Darkness is our lot."

 _The Everlasting Darkness._ I had heard of it. For some reason, it always frightened me more than the light, though I did not know why. I admired the stubbornness of the Sons of Fëanor, but I knew they could not prevail. My lord was much stronger than they realized. He was biding his time, watching and waiting, knowing the true weakness of the world lay within the good and free peoples themselves, knowing one day they would tear themselves apart, needing only a little encouragement to set them down the path of utter ruin.

 _Pity,_ I thought.

"But, tell me, Ránwen," Curufinwë urged me. "You ask me many questions, but say nothing of yourself. Do you not remember your name?"

This time, I answered him. "Yes, but it is passed. I like Ránwen."

Once again, the pleased smile.

"Do you have any family?"

 _Family?_ I knew none. Sauron was no father to me, but there was no one else. "No." I looked away, and he took my hand in his, large and warm, and squeezed it.

"We can be your family."

I looked up at him and made myself smile. _(If only he knew.)_

 _(Though his words comforted me, in a strange way.)_

After a moment of silence, he spoke, his voice low. "You are so beautiful." His dark eyes flickered with that uncanny light, and his gaze lingered over my lips.

My face felt hot.

His voice lowered even more. "May I . . . kiss you?"

I blinked. When I spoke, my words tumbled over each other. "You did not – ask me before." It was not that I did not want him to kiss me _(I wanted him to),_ but I wanted to learn all I could of him.

He let out a small laugh. "Forgive me. But if I recall correctly, you let me kiss you and did not back away from me. Indeed," and here he leaned closer to me and smirked, "you kissed me back."

My head felt like it was on fire.

"Did you not enjoy it?"

I nodded.

He pulled me up against him, still smiling. "So, Ránwen, wandering maiden. May I kiss you?"

I swallowed and met his eyes. "Why do you wish to kiss me?"

He laughed again. "You are a strange maiden." His tone became serious and more contemplative. "Why do I wish to kiss you? You are beautiful."

 _(Not my bat form.)_

"I am quite taken with you."

His pale face was turning rose-colored. I stifled a laugh. Prince Curufinwë was blushing!

"I think you understand me."

He was wrong. I could not understand him. _(Too much light.)_ But he intrigued me. I wanted to learn more about him. _(For Sauron, I told myself.)_

He smiled, but it did not look as confident as his previous smirk. He looked _nervous._ I could not help smiling back. I felt a bit more like my old self, when I caused people to feel uncomfortable all the time. Not that I liked it, though.

He spoke again, a little hesitant now. "So . . . may I kiss you, Ránwen?"

What could be the harm? I wanted him to kiss me. _(To become closer to him, to learn his secrets, I told myself. Not because I found him fair, not because he intrigued me.)_ "Yes. You may."

His smile grew, confident once more. He grasped me around the waist, hard, sliding his hand up into my hair, pulling my head gently back. Our lips met, and Curufinwë kissed me a second time.

And I kissed him back a second time.

* * *

That night, I awoke in a sweat. The moon shone in through the curtains, casting the room in a strange, silverly glow.

My heart pounded, my mind raced with the images I saw in my sleep.

 _A child with wings. Bat wings. My wings. A child with Curufinwë's face._

 _Three spinning objects of light._

 _A voice I thought I recognized, but I could not remember:_

 _"Well, Celebrimbor? Have you reconsidered my offer? Or must I further convince you?"_

I ran my hand through my hair, shivering. I could not sleep with so much light. Feeling restless, I stood and wandered down the halls of the castle, until I found Curufinwë's room. I eased the door open and looked inside. No light intruded on the dark here. I could hear his steady, deep breathing, and I stepped inside. I crept over to the side of his bed and gazed down on him. Surely Sauron would not mind if I drank just a little of his blood. I rolled the embroidered coverlet back, exposing his pale, bare chest. I stroked his arm once, then leaned over him and opened my mouth to bit down on his soft flesh.

I stopped, my teeth frozen over his arm. For some reason, I could bring myself to do it. It felt _wrong._ After all he had done for me.

 _It's just a little blood. He won't miss it. It won't even hurt. Not too much. It has been so long._

I did miss the taste of blood, but I couldn't drink Curufinwë's. I sighed, and straightened, gazing down on him. I stroked his silky black hair, lying in disarray all over his pillows, stroked his lily-white cheek. On an impulse I did not understand, I kissed his forehead. Then I left the room.


	4. Tirithil

A day came when the people of Curufinwë and his brothers gathered together to celebrate something they called the Feast of Jubilee.

"What exactly are you celebrating?" I asked him.

"It is an annual feast we have to ease the hearts of all during this time of war. This year we are celebrating it here at the castle of Himlad." He smiled, but his eyes were sad. He brightened, though, when he added, "You will finally be able to meet the rest of my brothers."

I felt uneasy. The Princes Celegorm and Maedhros did not trust me much – what would his other brothers think of me? Would they be able to see my heart?

The night of the feast, the handmaiden Curufinwë assigned to me took out a gown, comprised of layers upon layers of a transparent, dewy material dyed a rich scarlet. She held it out to me, but I did not dare touch it, for fear such a beautiful, delicate thing would crumble away in my filthy hands. The maiden smiled gently. "Try it on, Lady. Prince Curufin loves the color red."

For some reason, my face felt hot. I placed both hands on my cheeks. "He does?"

"Yes. He had this dress made especially for you, you know."

I felt a little faint. I cursed myself as I sat down on the bed. "He did?"

She let out a gentle laugh. "He loves you, Lady."

Good. That was what I wanted, wasn't it? Still, I felt uneasy. The way she said _love_ felt too real, too beautiful. I was Thuringwethil, the woman of secret shadow, messenger of Sauron, feared among immortals and mortals alike. I could not . . .

"Lady, you must put on this dress if you want time for me to do your hair before the princes arrive."

In a daze, I took the dress. It fell through my fingers like woven mist.

By the time the horses of Curufinwë's brothers began arriving, I was arrayed in the dewy dress of scarlet, and my hair curled and braided like a Noldorin princess's. I met Curufinwë in the hall outside my chamber. I blushed when I saw him and I looked away. He took my hands and pulled me into an embrace.

"You are beautiful, Ránwen."

I breathed in the scent of his tunic and said nothing.

"I brought you something." He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a long necklace on a silver chain. The star of Fëanor, the symbol of his house, gleamed at the end. My stomach clenched at the sight of it. Sauron would kill me if he saw me wearing it. "It was my mother's. She gave it to me before we . . ." He paused and swallowed before continuing. "Before we came over the sea."

I blinked at it. I looked up into Curufinwë's face. He took a deep breath.

"I want you to have it."

I took a step backward, as if trying to escape from it, but he still held me with one arm. _(I could have broken his arm and flown away . . .)_

He unclasped the necklace and placed it around my neck. I could have fled then, but I submitted to his touch. I felt the slight weight of the star on my chest, the cold of the chain against my bare skin. His mother's necklace. I almost ripped it off, breaking the delicate chain, and flinging it to the ground. But I didn't.

Absorbed in my thoughts, I did not see Curufinwë leaning in to kiss me until his lips touched mine. I did not kiss him back. I could smell his blood beneath his skin, hot and sweet. I restrained myself from biting down on his lip. As he leaned away from me, he said, "My brothers are all here. Come, they are waiting for us."

He took my hand and pulled me after him into the entrance hall. A couple dozen lords stood there, surrounding Prince Maedhros and several other imposing elves I assumed to be Curufinwë's brothers. I noted two of them also possessed Prince Maedhros' red hair, though lighter. Prince Celegorm was already there, talking to Prince Maedhros. Curufinwë led me up to them, grinning rather like an idiot. _An adorable idiot, though,_ I thought to myself.

"Maedhros! Maglor! Caranthir! Amrod! Amras! Welcome, brothers!"

"Curufin! It is good to see you!"

They embraced each other in turn with friendly violence. I wavered next to Curufinwë, desperately wishing to flee. _(And why didn't I?)_ I caught the eye of one of the two maidens who stood close to the princes; she barely came up past her lord's waist, and she held the hand of a small, curly-haired child. Her stomach swelled strangely from beneath her rose-colored silken robes. She gave me a quick, wild grin. Startled, I smiled back at her.

At length, one of the brothers' gazes found me, questioning. I stiffened. "Is this the mysterious maiden you've taken in that I've heard so much about?"

My face felt hot.

Curufinwë took my hand again and pulled me in front of him before placing his hands lightly on my hips. I could not miss the pride in his voice. "This is Reingwen. Reingwen, these are my brothers: Maglor, Caranthir, Amrod, and Amras. And you've already met Maedhros." I gave them all the wobbly curtsy the handmaiden had taught me. They bowed in return. None of them looked particularly disturbed by my presence. Still, my hand sweated into Curufinwë's. He continued. "She has been my guest these past couple of months." _(Months already? I did not notice.)_ "I, ah, accidently shot her one night while I was hunting with Celegorm, and I brought her back here to recover." He laughed. "You are nigh healed now, isn't that so, Reingwen?"

I nodded, and forced myself to smile at Curufinwë's brothers. "Well met, Princes Makalaurë, Carnistir, Ambarussa and Ambarto."

Surprise registered on all their faces, and Prince Maglor chuckled. "She is charming, Curufin."

I blushed.

Curufinwë extended his arm to me and I took it. We entered the great feasting hall and walked up onto the dais at the end of it. I stopped at the head of the table and pulled away from his arm, a little unsure. Grasping my shoulders, he leaned close to me and whispered, "You will sit by me, Ránwen." He pulled me after him and motioned to a chair. I sat. He seated himself on my right and the twins, Amrod and Amras, took their places on my left. I noted the princes sat according to age, placing us at the far left end of the table. I leaned forward so I could better see the two ladies who accompanied the princes. They sat straight and subdued, though when the maiden with the child saw me looking at her, she smiled at me again.

The feast was marvelous. I had found all the food during my time there to be something of a miracle, but I nearly fell out of my chair when a sparkling replica of the castle of Himlad came out of the kitchen, crafted all out of spun sugar and tiny confections.

After the feast, the tables in the center of the hall were removed, and the dancing began. I watched in fascination as Prince Maglor and the other maiden went down to the open area and they danced. They turned around and around on the floor in time to the sweet music the minstrels to the side played, stepping so quickly and lightly I thought one of them would trip and cause both of them to fall. But they never did. I stared, entranced, until I felt Curufinwë's hand on my arm and his breath in my ear: "Would you like to dance, Ránwen?"

Oh! "I don't know how to dance."

He pulled me up out of my chair. "I can teach you."

I stumbled after him in a daze.

Once we came onto the floor, Curufinwë turned me so I faced him, then placed my left hand on his shoulder. Then he laid his right hand on my waist and grasped my other hand with his left. I glanced down at our feet, then up at his face. He smirked, squeezed my waist, and moved his left foot forward. "Move your right foot back," he said. I did. He slid his right foot to the right. "Move your left foot with mine." I did. He took me through each of the steps, patient and gentle, giving my waist a gentle squeeze every once in a while. Eventually I knew the steps fairly well, though I had to stare at my feet and I stepped on his boots more than once. To the side, I saw Prince Maglor and the maiden whipping around, gazing into each other's eyes, their movements perfect and smooth.

"Ránwen."

I looked at Curufinwë. Our noses brushed, and he leaned closer to kiss me. This time I kissed him back. I cursed the tears which came into my eyes.

* * *

After the dancing, the two maidens took me aside into the great drawing room of the castle. I did not want to be there. The princes were going to discuss some "very boring matters," as Curufinwë put it, but Sauron told me discover their plans, and I had wanted to remain with them. Curufinwë only laughed at my request, though, and made me go with the other ladies.

I twisted my hand in the grip of the maiden with the child, thinking how much I would love to break her hand and force my way back to the princes. She sat down on one of the couches, pulling me down beside her. The other maiden, the one who danced so beautifully with Prince Maglor, took a seat close to us. In contrast to the first maiden's wild smiles, she remained demure and a little sad, I thought. She took out a small piece of material with some partially embroidered flowers on it from her reticule and proceeded to work on it with a needle. The first maiden took my hands in hers and turned toward me, her eyes shining.

"I am Tirithil, wife of Prince Caranthir, and that is Eärlinel, wife of Prince Maglor." She did not speak with an accent, as the other elves did. I also noticed her eyes did not contain the strange light I had come to love, though Lady Eärlinel's did.

"I am Reingwen." I looked at the child leaning against her. "Is that yours?"

She smiled with pride. "Yes. This is Daeloth, my son."

I reached out to him, curious, as I had never encountered an elven child before. I wondered if his blood was sweeter than an adult elf's. But he let out a little cry and ran over to Lady Eärlinel.

"Daeloth!" his mother reprimanded him. To me, she said, "I'm sorry. I don't know what the matter with him is. He is usually a fearless, friendly child."

Looking at him, though, I knew he could sense the darkness of my heart, the same as Huan could. Animals and children were ever the more perceptive. The way he looked at me with his trembling, gray-green eyes unnerved me, and I turned away from him, but I could still feel his accusing gaze on me.

Lady Tirithil spoke. "Where do you hail from, Reingwen?"

My name sounded different coming from her lips than from Curufinwë's. I made myself focus. Where would I come from? I did not look Sindarin, but the Noldor also thought me strange. I waved my hand in a vague gesture. "Faraway."

Lady Eärlinel looked up, her slight frown telling me she did not appreciate my answer, but Tirithil laughed. Her laughter was softer than Curufinwë's – more like tiny bells. She squeezed my hands. "Well?"

Disconcerted, I looked away. "What?"

"Well, Prince Curufin is apparently very fond of you. Do you think he will propose to you?"

I felt numb, and stared at the marbled floor of the room. I had not meant for it to go this way. I only meant to get closer to the prince so I could learn his secrets _(and so far, I had discovered none – only that his favorite color was red, he loved roast mutton, he could spend an entire week in his sooty forge working on a minute silver chain which I now wore on my wrist, and that he knew how to kiss)._

When I did not answer, Tirithil said, "I think he will. Those Fëanorians are all the same. Eärlinel told me Maglor acted the same way just before he proposed to her." She nodded to Eärlinel, who made no indication she agreed or even heard Tirithil. Daeloth continued to gaze at me with his frightened eyes.

Anxious to say something, I said, "What of Prince Caranthir?"

Tirithil laughed and waved her hand. "Oh, no. Our marriage was arranged. I barely knew his name when we married."

All the talk of marriage made me feel sick. I tried changing the subject and pointed to her swelling stomach. "So how did that happen?"

She stared at me with a blank expression on her face. "I beg your pardon?"

Glancing at Lady Eärlinel, I thought I saw a tiny smile creep onto her face. I turned back to Tirithil. "Why is your stomach so great?" Now that I said it, it did not sound like something an elven maid would say, but I was curious and I had said it, so I might receive an answer.

Understanding registered on Tirithil's face. "Oh, I am pregnant." She rubbed her hand over her belly tenderly.

"Pregnant?"

She frowned. "You do not know?"

I shook my head.

"I am with child."

I blinked. "There's a child inside you?"

Her face was red now. "Yes, dear."

I stared, unable to comprehend. "How?"

Tirithil, her face so red one would have thought the sun burned her, glanced at Lady Eärlinel, who pointedly ignored her, but grinned bigger than I had seen thus far. Tirithil faced me again and said, her voice somewhat less light than it had been before, "Well, you'll find out soon enough."

I was confused, but I accepted her answer, though it filled me with foreboding.

* * *

 **Thank you to elenrith, daughterofthechief, and my unknown guest for reviewing! It means a lot to me. :)**

 **Much love,**

 **Unicadia**


	5. Silver Flowers

Almost a year passed.

Tirithil gave birth to a tiny little daughter, and we attended the naming ceremony where her parents gave her the name _Lithendil._ I became enamored with the baby and carried her around with me everywhere whenever I could. I did not even want to return to Himlad. Tirithil told me, laughing, "You must go, Reingwen, or I will never see my own daughter!"

When we returned, I realized just how much time had passed. I knew Sauron was expecting me back, with a report on the doings of the sons of Fëanor.

 _(What did they do? They danced, they laughed, they protected their own.)_

 _(And I no longer wanted to drink their blood. At least not Curufinwë's. Or Lithendil's.)_

But I did not want to leave.

I sat alone in my chamber for a long while, weeping as I tried to think of some way to remain in Himlad forever. I shuddered, thinking of Angband, the orcs, the stench, Sauron's mocking eyes, the darkness _(strangely),_ the whip _(though I never disobeyed)._

Someone knocked on my door. "Ránwen?" came Curufinwë's voice.

I wiped the tears away. "You may enter."

He opened the door, grinning, but he sobered when he saw me. He came in and sat beside me on the bed. He wound his arm around my waist and pulled me up against him. "What is it, sweet?" he whispered, his lips brushing my ear.

 _(Sweet? Thuringwethil, sweet? Oh, if only you could see me now, Sauron . . .)_

The tears came flooding back. He wiped them away and kissed my cheek. I cleared my throat and made myself speak, choking on the words as they came out. "I don't want to go."

"Oh, Ránwen," he murmured with a little laugh, drawing me closer to him.

I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his chest, feeling the softness of his tunic, and the silkiness of his thick black hair spilling down over his shoulders. As my sobs racked through my body, he stroked my back, whispering something I could not understand, but which caressed my heart and stilled it.

"Where must you go, Ránwen?" he said at last.

I shook my head.

He pulled away from me, but held my face between his hands. "I love you, Ránwen. You must not leave."

He loved me. My mind swirled. Prince Curufinwë loved me. _(How did that happen?)_

He kissed me on the lips, hard and passionate now. I felt him slipping something on my finger, and untangling myself from his arms, I saw a thin band of silver on my index finger. _(And silver flowers twined around it.)_ I blinked at it, wondering if perhaps I were dreaming. I looked into Curufinwë's eyes. His lips hovered over mine. "Will you marry me, Ránwen?" His voice did not raise above a whisper.

I hesitated only a second, and the word left my mouth without much thought. "Yes."

The light in his eyes flared, brighter than I had seen them before and he caught me in his arms, violent, but ecstatic. "Thank you, Ránwen! Thank you!" As he covered my hair in kisses, I thought, _I hope you will not see the truth, Sauron._

 _(I loved Curufinwë.)_

* * *

Prince Celegorm was the first to know of our engagement. To say he was not pleased would be an understatement. Listening at the door of Curufinwë's study, I heard them shouting at each other.

"This is going too far, Curufin! She disturbs me. She disturbs Huan. Huan is never wrong."

"You're just jealous!" Never had I heard such venom in Curufinwë's voice. "No maiden has ever loved you, and now you would deprive me of love as well!"

"Hold your tongue! How dare you speak of that! I know Aredhel loved me." I had heard of this lady, Aredhel, before, her name always spoken almost in reverence by the elder prince.

"Which explains why she never gave you her heart."

"You know not of what you speak." Emotion trembled in Celegorm's voice.

"I know you have no right to tell me whom I may or may not love. I love Reingwen, and I will wed her."

"I thought you were more perceptive than this, brother. I thought you, of all of us, could perceive the depths of a soul. But your heart is blinding you. For once, heed my counsel! She is fell! Send her away, and do not marry her, I beg of you."

"And what will you do if I do marry her?"

A pause, then, "I will banish you from Himlad."

Curufinwë lowered his voice. "We are both lords of Himlad."

"But I am the elder. I will not allow that – that creature to dwell in my land."

"You tread on dangerous ground. Do not speak of her that way."

"She has bewitched you. Send her away, or I will banish you."

I leaped away from the door as Curufinwë burst from the room, wrathful. I ran.

I know not what passed between the brothers afterward, but we did wed, in six months' time, and Prince Celegorm did not banish Curufinwë.

* * *

I returned to Angband soon after my betrothal, slipping out at night when all slept. I would have preferred to have waited until after the marriage, but it had already been too long. It felt strange flying in my bat-hame again, strange and dark and ugly. It took me much longer to go back, or perhaps it only felt that way. I dreaded facing my master. When I arrived, I shifted from my bat form, and searched the darkness for him.

I found him inspecting the werewolf den. I reeled at the nauseating stench which hung around the den, and steadied myself. The wolves growled low in their throats, and Sauron turned. "Thuringwethil! You have been over-long." He threw a hunk of meat to the wolves. They ignored it and watched me, still growling.

I shivered, but Sauron did not seem concerned. "You reek of elf." He faced me, his eyes sharp. "Well? What did you learn?"

I swallowed, but I found my voice. "I need more time. The sons of Fëanor trust few. But I know how to learn their secrets."

Sauron raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

I swallowed again. "I am . . . to marry . . . one of them."

Sauron stared at me. I could not recall a time when he had looked more startled. He said nothing, and I did not elaborate. My face burned. Would he kill me?

At length, he cleared his throat and spoke. "Interesting . . . I am surprised with you, Thuringwethil, but not displeased. A clever plan. I did not think you were bright enough to come up with something so cunning."

Relief swept through me, but I maintained a passive expression.

 _Curufinwë was cunning, not I._

He nodded, his gaze turning toward a spot on a ground, and he rubbed his hands together. "Yes, very clever. Good work. I will let our lord know. In the meantime, learn all you can from them, especially the tall, red-haired one. He leads them all."

"Maitimo," I whispered.

"What was that?"

I raised my head. "His name is Maedhros."

"No matter. Learn all you can from them. Perhaps," and his grin widened, "you can enter into the thoughts of that elf and discover what you can there."

"'That elf'?"

"The one you will . . . wed." He still grinned, but I could tell he did not like saying the word. I wondered why, if he was so pleased with me.

"Curufin." He should learn his name.

Now he looked irritated. "It does not matter. You understand what you must do?"

My stomach twisted at the thought of betraying Curufinwë, but I nodded. I could still love him and serve my master at the same time.

* * *

 **elenrith: Thanks! I was doodling one day, and on random whim, I drew Curufin and Thuringwethil together. And then I thought, why hasn't anyone done this yet? They really are perfect for each other.**


	6. Gold-and-Silver Light

Entering into the thoughts of another was an intimate affair, and I decided to wait until after I married Curufinwë to search his mind, but I was also simply delaying.

I learned that the Noldor usually waited a year after betrothal before marriage, so our short engagement earned us a few concerned correspondences, particularly from Curufinwë's brothers. He ignored them all.

It rained the day of our marriage, an ominous low rumble beating against the stone walls of the castle as we took our vows in front of all the people of Himlad. I stumbled over the words, choking as I called upon Eru Ilúvatar as witness. If Sauron had known, perhaps he wouldn't have let me marry Curufinwë. All the people looked happy, but Prince Celegorm, standing in the front with his other brothers frowned a little, and Huan beside him watched with a disturbed air.

I had not given Curufinwë a betrothal ring (as I did not know the custom), but he had made us both intricate wedding rings, which we now exchanged. I looked down at mine. Curufinwë had fashioned it to look like a thorny rose twining up my finger. His was identical, save that the stem wound up his finger from the other direction. He took my hand, tilted my face up, and we locked eyes. He must have sensed my uncertainty, my darkness, and he whispered, "Do you love me, Ránwen?"

"Yes. Yes. Of course I do. Yes."

 _(I loved him, but I felt like I was betraying him.)_

For the first time, I saw doubt in his eyes. But then it disappeared, and he smiled, pulled me close, and kissed my lips. The people rose with a shout of joy and flowers rained on us from the balconies. I could not help but laugh as Curufinwë caught me up in his arms and spun me around and around and everything was right for a moment in time.

And then the dancing began. I danced with Curufinwë, Lady Eärlinel danced with Prince Maglor, and Tirithil danced with Prince Caranthir. We spun around and around amongst all the other dancers, three jewels spinning in a sea of gladness.

And then it ended.

* * *

I remembered Sauron's words. _Enter into his thoughts._

I still could not bring myself to do it, though. I delayed for a month after the wedding, before I made myself intrude on his mind.

On the night I chose, Curufinwë and I lay in our chamber as the lamplight flickered on the walls. I lay with my head on his bare chest and he stroked my hair with one hand while he held a book in the other. I waited for him to fall asleep, but he seemed tireless. I felt myself succumbing to slumber, when he spoke, his voice soft, but emotionless: "I know what you really are."

My heart twisted within me and I clenched my hands. Could he see my thoughts? My world darkened. _(Darkened, when it was always dark.)_ Black images filled my mind: cages, whips, scorning eyes, mocking eyes, hate-filled eyes, death by the one whom I loved . . . Willing my voice to remain steady, I said, "Have you always known?" I could not see how he could have and still married me.

A pause, then, "No."

"Oh. Did you know before you married me?"

Another pause, then, "No."

I made myself speak again, cursing the tears that rose in my eyes. "Will you kill me?"

His hand on my hair dropped around my shoulders and he pulled me closer to him, his fingers strong and possessive. "I do not care what you are. You I love, and that will not change no matter what you are."

He was too good. He did not know what I intended. I turned my face into his chest and wept.

At last, Curufinwë fell asleep, and I curled up close to him and entered into his thoughts.

I thought to find the place from where he drew his inspiration, the place of his innermost secrets and passions, where the fire of his heart burned hottest.

Instead, I found a memory of a high-towered city, flooded in a sunless gold-and-silver light.

 _What is this place?_

I reached further.

I saw a very small child, a beautiful child. It could only be Curufinwë. His eyes shone even brighter than I knew them to be, and he laughed, oh, how he laughed. I saw his father, it could only be his father, though at first I thought it was the Curufinwë I knew. His father held him high in the air, and they smiled for the whole world as the light filled the place.

I saw them again, in a dark forge, his father guiding his hands as he poured molten gold into a mold. I recognized the look of concentration on Curufinwë's face – he sucked his bottom lip even now when he made his masterpieces.

I saw his mother, with hair as red as Prince Maedhros', holding his hand and the hand of another child, whom I thought must be Prince Caranthir. The wind whipped around them, flinging their hair about them, and the children tugged at their mother's hands as they went.

I saw a young Prince Celegorm carrying Curufinwë, dropping him, stooping down to comfort him, wiping away his tears, kissing his tiny white hand; and I heard his voice, silverly and distant, "Don't cry, Curvo." _(Curufinwë's nickname, too short for my liking, though.)_

I saw an older Curufinwë, yet different from the one I knew, laughter in his eyes which reflected the strange gold-and-silver light, and no trace of ancient sorrow in his face. I saw him with his brothers, Princes Celegorm and Caranthir, the three of them together, grasping each others' shoulders and laughing.

I saw them riding together with a maiden in a white and silver dress, and I felt within the memory that this was Aredhel, but they called her _Írrisë._ I saw how Prince Celegorm looked at her, and it reminded me of how Curufinwë looked at me, and I knew he loved her very much. I wondered what became of her.

I saw other maidens, many maidens, with whom Curufinwë danced, and my heart clenched a little, but he never gave any of them the smiles he gave me.

I rose from the sea of memories feeling dizzy and guilty. I gazed upon my husband's peaceful face and stroked his cheek. I listened to his breathing for few minutes, before I put aside my troubled thoughts and slept as well.

* * *

"I could only find his childhood memories," I told Sauron the next time I visited Angband. It was harder slipping away now that I was married. I left at night or during the day, when Curufinwë was off hunting with Prince Celegorm.

"You are not reaching far enough." He would not look at me, and his voice flickered with impatience.

"If I go further, I fear he will wake."

"Excuses, Thuringwethil! Take this." He turned toward me, reached into the pouch at his belt and pulled out two little bags. He tossed them to me and I almost dropped them.

"What are these?"

"They contain a powdered sleeping drug." Sauron smirked. "It is very potent. Care you do not give him too much." His voice dripped with mockery. I wanted to fling the little bags back at him, but I didn't. I inclined my head to him and turned to leave.

"One more thing," he said, and I stopped.

"Yes?"

He still smirked. "Our lord is very pleased with you."

I did not know what to say. I tightened my lips and left.

That night, as we made ready to go to bed, I prepared two goblets of wine. After a moment's hesitation, I emptied one of the little bags into one of them. My hands trembled as I brought them into the chamber, and I nearly dropped them when Curufinwë turned toward me and smiled. I managed to smile back, and set the goblets down on the bedside table. "A little wine before we sleep," I said, hoping I didn't sound as nervous as I felt.

"Lovely." He reached for one of the goblets, the untampered one, and I quickly thrust the drugged wine into his hand. He looked surprised, but he smiled and leaned in to kiss me. His lips were warm and gentle, and I closed my eyes, wishing I could simply enjoy my husband's presence without worrying about what I was doing to him. But the guilt weighed heavy on me, and I pulled away after a few moments.

We settled into the bed, and I snuggled up close to him. He wound an arm around my waist as he sipped the wine and gazed across the room with a vacant look on his face. I could not swallow my wine, and only pretended to drink it. After a while, he looked down at me and said, "You are so quiet tonight, Ránwen."

A drop of wine escaped the goblet and slid down my throat. I coughed and leaned away to place the goblet back on the table. "I have nothing to say."

"You seem sad."

I shook my head.

 _Thuringwethil does not cry!_

I made myself speak. "I love you."

His arm tightened around my waist. "I love you, too, Ránwen." I felt his lips press into the top of my head. I wondered how soon the drug worked. Perhaps for one so strong and fiery, I needed the other bag of the sleeping powder.

We lay there in silence. I kept myself awake, though I felt as though the weight of the mountains rested on my eyes. As the evening dragged on, I contemplated offering to refill his goblet and then putting some more of the drug in it while I did, but in time, I felt Curufinwë sag against me. His hand fell to his side, and the goblet rolled out of his fingers, dotting the embroidered coverlet with the last few drops of wine left in it. I looked up into his face. His dark lashes lay against his pale skin, his lips parted slightly, his chest rose and fell too slow for natural sleep. Trembling, I pressed my face against his cheek, buried my hands in the thick black hair of his scalp, and closed my eyes as I entered into his thoughts.

I wanted to linger in his memories of his childhood, but I moved past those, willing myself to push further into the deep recesses of his mind.

* * *

 **Thanks again for the reviews!**

 **Much love,**

 **Unicadia**


	7. The Betrayal

Once again, Curufinwë surprised me.

I did not find his secret plans, the "boring matters" he shared with his brothers. I did not find the demise of my lord, did not find armies or swords or three burning jewels. Not yet.

I found myself.

I found myself, chained in some dark place, bleeding and weeping. A huge pair of bat wings emerged from my back, and I shielded myself with them. Shadowy figures with no faces surrounded me, though two stood out from the rest, and I knew them to be the Princes Maedhros and Celegorm. They yelled and spat on me, kicked me, while I screamed and tried protecting myself with my wings. They dragged me away by my chains, and I saw Curufinwë running after us, begging them to stop. They pushed him aside and took me out to a bare field under a cloudless gray sky. Prince Maedhros unsheathed his sword and plunged it into my breast.

I could feel the pain of the blow, and almost screamed. Curufinwë shuddered beneath my hands, but I pushed further.

I saw myself again, lying on a bed, surrounded once more, but this time the figures were all maidens, and they looked frightened. I was screaming, and my belly looked swollen, rather like how Tirithil's had been. The scene changed, and now I lay limp and gray on the bed, Curufinwë leaning over me, crying into my hair. A maiden in the background held something small and bloody.

Curufinwë groaned, but I pushed yet further, though I trembled as well now.

At last, I caught a glimpse of an army – beautiful and shining – but then it vanished.

Startled, I looked down, and saw Curufinwë glaring up at me, tears streaking his cheeks.

"Curu-"

"Silence!" he snapped. He took my arm, tight at first, then he loosened his grip, and gently moved me away from him. Then he rolled out of the bed, the goblet shattering onto the floor, and stormed from the room. I watched him go, cursing myself before sinking into the pillows and quietly weeping.

* * *

Curufinwë would not speak to me the following day, would not even look at me. He and Celegorm soon left to go hunting again, this time for a couple days. He stormed from the castle with his brother and Huan and did not even say goodbye. I brooded in the gardens, blinking in the light. I had almost always been alone at Angband, but now I longed for company. I thought of Tirithil and Eärlinel and of little Lithendil. I remembered what Tirithil had said the night of the Feast of Jubilee more than a year ago, and stroked my stomach. I remembered the dark fears I saw in Curufinwë's mind, knew he loved me, but wondered what he would do. Three days after the incident, I returned to Angband, listless and melancholy.

"What is the matter, Thuringwethil?" Sauron asked, sounding annoyed. "Did you discover anything?"

Recalling the brief image of the shining army, I said, "Yes. They're planning something. But Curufinwë awoke before I could discover details."

He frowned. "He woke up? Even after you gave him the drug?"

I shrugged. "Perhaps I did not give him enough." I did not like saying it.

He growled deep in his throat and said nothing. Hoping to distract him, I said, without thinking, "I am with child."

Sauron snapped his gaze onto me and narrowed his eyes. "What?"

 _Tirithil said 'pregnant.'_ "I said I am with child."

He blinked, as if he could not comprehend my words. Then he began laughing, a horrible high shrill that echoed off the cavernous walls. I waited while he gasped for breath. "That – that – that elf's child?"

I felt indignant. "Yes."

"Thuringwethil is pregnant with an elf's child!" he shrieked, tears rolling down his cheeks. An overwhelming urge to slap him came over me. Then he quickly sobered. "Wait here." He swept away, leaving me feeling uneasy. Perhaps I should not have told him. The wolves watched me, their eyes glinting in the little light.

Sauron soon returned. He did not smile, but he did not look angry either. "Our lord says that when you give birth, you must bring the child hither." He waved me away. "That is all." He turned to leave.

My heart pounded in my ears. I should not have told him. What was I thinking? But I had not wanted him to make me enter Curufinwë's thoughts again. I opened my mouth. "Why?" The word fell heavy from my tongue.

Sauron looked startled. "'Why'? Why what?"

I took a deep breath. "Why must I bring my child hither?"

He let out a short laugh. "It does not matter. He commands, you obey. Now go."

I did not move. "Why must I bring my child hither?"

His eyes flashed. "Do not say that again."

My voice rose. "Why won't you answer me?"

"You are insolent, Thuringwethil! You never questioned anything before. Has living among those elves made you soft?"

 _On the contrary,_ I thought, _they have made me strong._

"It is my child. Why can't I raise it in Himlad?"

He slapped me. His hand left a burning impression on my face, but still I did not move. "Silence! Return to that elf. Bring the child here when you give birth." He turned away.

I watched him go, burning holes in the back of his cloak with my eyes.

* * *

Curufinwë returned that evening, and I sat in our chamber a long time before he came in. I should not have told Sauron. He would keep my child from me, raise it to become some fell servant of his, a servant who hated its master, hated its life, but so bound to both that it could do nothing to escape either. I wondered if I should tell Curufinwë. He loved me. But I had betrayed his trust. And he knew me for what I really was. What would he do when he heard that I had told my master I was pregnant? And how could I tell him my reason? He would know I was trying to steal his secret thoughts for my master.

Would he still love me if he knew?


	8. The Crafty

A couple days later, Curufinwë finally approached me, but his stoic face made me tremble. "Ránwen," he whispered, slipping his arms around me. "Why were you searching my thoughts? What did you seek?"

I had a feeling he already knew, but I hesitated.

"Did someone tell you to do it?"

I wriggled in his grasp, but he held me tight.

His voice became tense. "Ránwen, I need to know."

Tears pricked the edges of my eyes, and I looked away from him. He turned my face up toward him and pressed his forehead against my mine. His breath smelled like the wine we drank at dinner that night. "Ránwen. I love you. That will never change. But you come from a dark place that I fear still haunts you. I cannot risk our plans, the safety of our people, my brothers – our child."

I leaned toward him, and our lips brushed, but then he moved away from me. His voice took on a cold edge which frightened me. "Or does your master still hold you?"

I shivered. Would he cast me out? Have me killed?

But I remembered the things I found in his unguarded mind. He would never do such things.

Suddenly, he gripped my arms, hard, and he shook me, his eyes wrathful, flaming with fire. "What is going on, Ránwen? Have you been deceiving me all this time? Playing with my heart? Is _he_ coming? Have you been telling _him_ our secrets?"

His fingers dug into my arms, but the pain did not compare to the pain of his words. Tears spilled from my eyes, and I shook my head, but I could not speak. He dropped me, violent, and I fell onto the floor, twisting my left foot. "Curufin . . ." I gasped.

"Well?" he snapped.

"I didn't want to . . ." I sucked in a long, shuddering breath, wincing through the pain streaking up my arms, my leg, and my heart. "Didn't want to . . . Sauron . . . Sauron is a dreadful . . . dreadful master . . . I couldn't just . . . couldn't just leave him . . . he told me to enter your thoughts . . . I didn't want to . . ."

He reached down, grabbed my arm, and wrenched me up again. "What did you tell him?"

"Only that you're planning something." I swallowed. "And that I'm pregnant."

He scoffed. "That is all?"

I nodded, trying not to break into more tears. Oh, how my arm ached. And I could barely stand on my foot.

And then Curufinwë embraced me, his hands on my hips and in my hair, his lips upon my neck. Shocked, I hung limp in his arms, unsure what happened.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "But I had to know."

As my hazy, hurt head cleared, I ran through his words and actions, the images from his thoughts of him weeping at my side overshadowing it all. I couldn't understand, didn't want to understand. "So . . ." I croaked out, "you still love me?"

He squeezed me tighter. "Of course. Never once did stop loving you."

I frowned. "Then you acted like you didn't care –"

"– to get you to tell me everything. Yes." He didn't sound remorseful. "I'm sorry. But as I said, I had to know. For everyone's safety. For our child's safety."

My mind whirled. I felt relieved, but also betrayed. I tried comforted myself with the reminder that Curufinwë would love me no matter what.

"Do you know if your master is planning on attacking?" asked Curufinwë.

"No. I do not think so. But –"

"Yes?"

I made myself speak. He still frightened me somewhat. "He – he wants me to bring our child to him when it is born."

He did not speak for some time. When he did, it sounded like he spoke more himself than to me. "He means to raise it as a slave."

"Yes. But I have already decided what to do."

He leaned away from me and looked into my face, expectant.

"I will no longer go to him. I will remain here with you." I made myself smile.

He did not smile back. "Will he try to find you?"

"Perhaps. But I do not think he will send an army after me. I will not be worth it to him. After all, you and your brothers have a strong hold in the north."

His mouth flickered, but he said nothing.

* * *

Still, Curufinwë sent more soldiers to our borders and would not allow me to leave the castle, not even to venture into the gardens, until I gave birth. As my time drew near, my stomach now as great as Tirithil's had been, Curufinwë became increasingly nervous.

"What is the matter?" I asked him.

"Our grandmother died giving birth," he said. "Thus, my father feared for our mother's life every time she gave birth. Indeed, she almost perished bringing Celegorm, the twins, and myself into the world. Likewise, Caranthir feared so much for Lady Tirithil, that after their second child he decided he did not want any more children. And now it is my turn." He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"I am strong," I said. "I am not an elven maid like the others." Unbidden, the image of me laying on the bed and him weeping once again came to my mind.

He took my hand and squeezed it. "You are strong."

Prince Caranthir came to visit us that last month, and Tirithil came as well, along with Daeloth and little Lithendil. Tirithil grinned when she saw me, giving me a knowing look. I returned the smile, but fear gripped me as I thought of what was to come. Fear of what, exactly, I could not say. Fear that I would die giving birth to Curufinwë's child, that his fire would consume me? Fear that Sauron would find us and take our child away? Fear of the unknown? Perhaps that was it. Thuringwethil, woman of secret shadow, feared giving birth to an elf's child. I, who feared the darkness, the light, the fire of the one who held my heart, feared a baby. I felt silly, but could not deny it.


	9. Silver-Fist

One evening, Tirithil and I sat embroidering by the fire as our lords, along with Prince Celegorm, discussed the state of their borders (at least Tirithil embroidered; she had just finished showing me the basics and I was attempting to decorate a piece of cloth to use as a blanket for my child, but ending up pricking my fingers more than naught). Huan presided at his master's feet, watching me. Daeloth and Lithendil slept in one of the many rooms in the castle.

I showed my cloth to Tirithil. "I am doing it right?"

She took it and examined it. "Mm, mostly. You have to stitch in the same direction. Otherwise, it looks, well, messy." She returned the cloth to me.

I frowned down at the sprays of flowers strewn about it, and then glanced at the delicate, light-footed horses Tirithil embroidered onto a little dress for Lithendil. My abdomen did not feel quite right. I rubbed my stomach and shifted in my seat. I did not like embroidery, but Tirithil was so excited to teach me, I could not refuse her. But I could not see the point of it.

I looked over at the three princes. Gazing at them, I remembered Curufinwë's memory of Tirion, of him and his two brothers, all of them laughing. They must have always been close. I marveled at how different they each looked: Prince Celegorm with his wavy, silver hair, and dreamy, half-closed eyes as he stroked the top of Huan's head; Prince Caranthir with his freckles, wild mane of dark curls, and haughty air; and Curufinwë with his elegant black braids and the ever-present tiny smirk dancing on his lips. I thought him much fairer than the other two, a sharp, intelligent look on his face as though he were internally calculating his every word and action, his eyes bright and burning. I would not say this to Tirihtil, however.

I turned back to my embroidery and stabbed the cloth with the needle.

A sharp pain streaked through my abdomen, and I dropped the cloth, doubling over with a small cry of surprise. Tirithil leaped to my side, holding my shoulders. "Prince Curufin!"

I heard the scrape of his chair, and he flew to my side, picking me up bridal style. "Ránwen! What is the matter?"

"I think she is going into contractions, my lord," Tirithil whispered.

He cursed, and carried me away. As we left the room, I heard Celegorm say, "Is she all right?" None of the usual distrust pervaded his voice.

"Her time is near," Prince Caranthir answered. He sounded tense. "Tirithil did not . . ." But I did not catch the rest of what he said.

What passed afterward comes to me in a haze. Maidens hovered around me, calm _(and odd they seemed to me)._ My most prominent recollection is the pain. I did not see Curufinwë, and wondered often where he was. A voice filled my ears, screaming. I wondered who it was, and why they screamed. Then I realized it was I who screamed. Many pains I had suffered in my life, but none consumed me as this pain did. My body burned and I could feel the sweat pooling around me. I remember lashing out, seeing my arms and fingers, and thinking why they looked so strange, not realizing till later I had shifted, and kept shifting, from bat-hame to Firstborn of Ilúvatar and back. The maidens around me shrieked and ran, leaving me screaming and weeping, weeping.

And then Curufinwë came to me, and as if from a nightmare, I remembered the visions I saw in his mind and I wondered if I would die. _(For he wept and cried out, saying things I could barely understand: "Ránwen, can you hear me? Ránwen, you will live, you will live . . ."_ I felt my spirit weaken, shuddering beneath his hands as they held me close, pulling away from his fingers. I did not want to leave him. I did not want to leave my child. _(Whom I did not see.)_ What would become of them? What ends would they come to?

And I saw something.

I saw an elf, tall and terrible to behold, with hair black as night and eyes which burned with a fire. _(And a pair of enormous wings emerged from his shoulder-blades.)_ He bent over something which glowed, a forge, I thought _(and a darkness watched him)._ He created three things, not jewels, not _Silmarils,_ three things haloed in silver light. I felt the weight of mountains on him as he held them in his hand, which appeared silver in the light of the three things.

Sauron would find him. If not in this age, then later. He would find him.

I shivered, and my heart wept for him.

My spirit groaned. I could not remain there. It hurt to breathe, but with one final effort, I gasped out into the living world, "His name is Silver-fist." As soon as I said it, all faded.

 _Strange,_ I thought, as Curufinwë's touch faded with all else, his lips upon my forehead, _that Thuringwethil should fall from a child._ And then, the world darkened, the light I loved and hated dying with it, and I dreamed.

Curufinwë gave our child his own name, the name his father also bore. But ever after, people called him _Telperinquar,_ or _Celebrimbor._

Celebrimbor.

Silver-fist.

The elves did not know what to do with him. A pair of great, bat-like wings shadowed his back, and his hands held the skill of his father, and his father before him. He grew great in friendship with his cousins, Daeloth and Lithendil, but few trusted him.

The Powers do not know what to do with my spirit. I was a born a creature of darkness _(Thuringwethil),_ but died a creature of light _(Ránwen)._ I remain apart from the spirits of the Firstborn, made to wait, made to watch.

What ends did my husband and son come to?

They fell, long ago.

 _(In fire, in blood, in tears.)_

I am not allowed to see Curufinwë.

" _He is cursed, he is fell. He followed too closely in the footsteps of his father. He will never leave my halls,"_ Mandos told me.

"Never?" I asked.

" _Never."_

He let me see my son, once.

"Mother," he said.

"Celebrimbor."

His spirit was so much like his father's. But it burned lower. It did not feel as dangerous.

"Forgive me," I said.

"Why?"

"I fear it is because of me that Sauron inflicted so much malice upon you. I angered him and he unleashed it upon you."

His spirit touched mine, and I trembled. "Do not fret, Mother. It is over."

The light fills the place, and it is over. And Sauron fell, and Thuringwethil, the woman of secret shadows, smiles to herself from her corner of the world.

* * *

 **And that's it! I hope you weren't disappointed by the ending. After seeing some of the comments, I was tempted to extend the story a little longer, but simply do not have the time. I might write a sequel about Celebrimbor someday, though. Thank you for sticking with me through this!**

 **Much love,**

 **Unicadia**


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